The Subtle Approach
by BlackLodgeinhabitant
Summary: Michael/Adam encounters the King of Hell and his kind of torture. Crowley uses another Hunter instead of physical pain for his subtle approach.


**Rating: **PG**  
Season **9**  
Spoiler: **Season 8

**Genre: **AU**  
Content: **Michael / Adam encounters the King of Hell.

**Disclaimer**: All characters and all rights of Supernatural belong to Warner Brothers Entertainment Inc. This Fanfiction was written for enterainment purposes only, I am not making money out of it. All similarities with persons alive or dead are coincidence.

**The subtle approach**

"Where are you taking me? Answer me you abominations! I demand an answer!" the shouting continued as a dozen of strong looking men dragged the struggeling blond down the pitch black alley. The blonde man's eyes were like a dying candleflame. He surely was exhausted from what ever had happened to him but his voice was still as loud as trumpets calling for battle. The group reached a cell block with hundreds maybe thousands of cells. Some of them occupied with shadowy figures others empty with puddles of black blood on it's floors. Weary faces with dark hopeless eyes watched the blonde man being pushed in one of the cells.

"My brothers will come and kill you all!" the angry young man's voice had turned hoarse. He obviously didn't get a lot to drink. He was breathing heavily when he stepped back from the metal bars and slid down the moldy wall. When he sat down and his eyes got used to the darkness he noticed something moving in the back of his cell.  
"Hey," he said turning his head sighlty to the left like a curious cat observing an insect.  
The shadow in the back moved again.  
"I said hey," the man repeated his salutation.  
"I heard you the first time," said the person in the back of his cell.  
"You are a woman," the man said suprised.  
"Last time I checked I was", replied the woman grumpily.  
"What is your name?" asked the man carefully as if he feared she would not speak again.  
"Why do you care?" her voice had a softer tone than before but she still had her guard up.  
"My name is Michael," the man obviously tried to start a conversation here.  
"Sara," she said after a long pause.  
"Why are you here Michael?" she wanted to know.  
"I had a fight with my brother."  
"Did you kill him?" she was getting more interested.  
"No, I couldn't."  
"And now you're stuck here with me. You should have done your job, buddy." the suppressed anger in her voice was unmistakeble.  
"What happened to you, Sara?" Michael whispered.  
"My story is not so different from yours, pal. I am here because of my brother. He sold me out," the despise in her voice made Michael shiver.  
"Why did he do that?"

"Why do you ask for my friggin' life story?" she slid deeper into her dark corner.  
"I can help you Sara, we can", he tried to sound more convinced than he actually was.  
"You can help me?" she laughed cold and hard. „You can't even help yourself!"  
„I am an angel of the Lord. My brothers will come and rescue me, rescue both of us", the thought of his brothers made his eyes shine brighter.  
Sara laughed again „right and I am the friggin' Queen of Saba."  
"No you are not,",Michael got angry. "She's not here. I met her before I came here, there is no way it can be you!"  
"Relax, I was just kidding," she tried to calm him down again.  
Carefully she crawled out of her dark corner towards her new cell mate. Her face was weary and dirty like all the other faces Michael could make out when he was dragged here. Her clothes were torn and covered with dirt but what really stood out were here eyes. She obviously saw him and crawled in his direction but she seemed to focus on a point miles behind him. He had seen this before on the battle fields of Moab or Edom, this hundred yard stare bare of all hope.  
"So an angel, hm? Why are you really here, Michael the angel? Can't you guys just turn demons to ashes? Why were they able to just drag you here? Why am I supposed to believe a word you say?" she still didn't look at him directly. Her eyes looked straight past his head.

"I told you I fought my brother, and we fell ..."  
"You fell? As in a fallen angel?" she interrupted.  
"No we fell into his cage..."  
"His cage? An angel cage? How did the demons..?"  
"Would you please let me finish my sentences?" he raised his voice.

"Umm, sorry," she mumbled.  
"You know my brother, his name is Lucifer." her mouth opened as if she wanted to make a remark but decided differently.  
"We were supposed to fight but his vessel refused to do so..."  
"His vessel?"  
"He opened the door to the cage where Lucifer was held for the last centuries and all of us fell. We finally fought but then one of my brothers came to take Sam, Lucifer's vessel. This means my brothers know exactly what is going on here and they will come to get me and my vessel. I just have to be patient." a little proud smile came and passed.

"But how will they find you here?" the question suprised him.  
"Well, they won't stop looking if they don't find me there, will they?"a little hint of doubt was echoing in his words.  
"I don't know about your brothers but mine wouldn't waste their time looking for me," she sighed. "But there are still the Winchesters," Michael insisted, „They would never leave their brother to rot here. My powers are fading but my vessel's faith does not."  
"Right, good for you," she said weakly and started moving back into her corner.  
"Wait, Sara, wait. You didn't tell me about you."

"You are right, I didn't," there was no stopping her from closing up again.

Hours passed like they were years only the changing pitch of the screams gave a slight hint that time must have passed. The silence was thick and hard to bear for the angel.

"Please, why won't you talk to me?" he wispered.

"Why do you want me to? There is nothing I could say to make things easier," she replied.  
"I don't want easier," he answered "I just need to hear something besides these screams. We couldn't hear it inside the cage, it's horrible."  
"You are not crying, are you?" all of a sudden she sounded scared.  
"No", he snuffled.

"Ah come on, you are an angel, you are one of the most powerful beings in the entire universe why would you cry?" she was angry at him.  
"It's not me", he explained „Sometimes my vessel's emotions take over. He is very scared and frustrated, he doesn't like it here which is no surprise, I don't like it here either."  
"Welcome to the club," she said sour.  
"What happened to you?" he asked again.  
"You really want to know, hmm?" he nodded.  
"Well, I used to be the one who send those demon sons of bitches back here", she started.  
„You were a hunter?"  
„I was a Jäger," she corrected him.

"So a German hunter," he echoed.  
"Do you need a friggin' TARDIS to understand me? I'm a Jäger we are not just hunters! It's a life devoted to the job, I was born and raised for this, my entire family, generations we all did the job. It became our last name: Jäger."  
"So what happened?"  
"The job happened. My brother's wife got possessed, we exorcised her but it was too late. She died and he was devastated. So he made a deal."

"A crossroad deal?"  
"No he simply sold me out to this little toad called Crowley." she spat on the floor.  
"Why would he want you?", the angel was confused.  
"Cause apparently I am the Queen of Spades," she explained.

"You what?"

"Crowley has a most wanted list of successful hunters I made the list as Queen of Spades," Michael could hear a little pride in the woman's voice.  
"So your brother made a deal to get his wife back?"  
"Yes, that little git! He sold me out and dragged our name into the dirt. Who would work with a family who sells out their own? Nobody! I despise him," her anger turned to rage. For the first time Michael saw the small woman get on her feet. She strod across the room and punched the she groaned from pain.  
"Was it worth it?" Michael grinned.

"Defintly," she grinned back. Michael suddenly realized that she had looked right into his eyes. Hope, a little spark of hope a minor miracle happened right in front of him.

The time passed much more quickly after they started talking so it took Sara by surprise when someone approached the cell.  
She immediately recognized one of the demons and grinned: "Hey Bob, unbelievable it must be Tuesday again."

"You will soon be laughing on the other side of your face, little bitch," his evil grin showed rotten teeth some of them had turned from yellow to dark green.  
His company grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the cell. Michael stood up but had trouble staying on his feet. Obviously the time in the place he called cage must have been extremely exhausting for him.  
"You wait your turn," hissed Bob.

When the screaming started Michael crouched into a corner of his cell and covered his ears. He could hardly stop his vessel from crying out loud. The time in the cage had been hard for both of them but out here his vessel seemed to to suffer much more. As if it was not the physical pain that they endured was the hardest part of being in hell but the trauma especially Adam suffered from. In the cage were no sounds just darkness and Lucifer's anger. When Sam had left Lucifer took out all his anger on Sam's soul. A moment of rest for him and Adam but also a way to blow off some steam himself.  
_How could this impertinent little shit dare to interfere with the last of all battles? It was a prophecy! It was written down in the holiest of all books! _  
Adam's soul also had sustained considerable damage but here it seemed to fall apart. He could feel Adam pounding against the walls in this little skull they shared. This was in the beginning but since they had left the cage Adam's pain grew and Michael felt it like a knife twisting in his stomach.

After what seemed like days the demons came back with what was left of his cell mate. She couldn't walk so they dragged her into the cell where she fell straight on her face. She was covered in what seemed like her own blood. When she didn't move Michael crawled out of his corner.  
"Sara?" he wisphered.  
When she didn't answer he carefully turned her around. He felt for her cervical artery and sighed in relief when he felt a pulse.

_How long could the human body stand this kind of torture? And would this be what the future held for him and Adam?_

He wasn't sure for how long he sat in the dark just listening to the stertorous breaths his cell mate took heavily. The iron smell in this tiny room made him feel sick. He hated his vessel's weak body and all the pain and discomfort it caused. Now it became obvious why Adam never was heaven's first choice.

_A weak boy with a fragile soul what in the world did Zachariah think when he summoned him to take this vessel?_

He looked at Adam's hands, they were still wet with Saras blood. _How fitting_, he thought. In the end it was all he achieved since he left heaven just senseless blood shed.

The heavy pounding of shoes outside derailed his train of thoughts.  
Sara also heard the noise and tried to get up as quickly as she could. She crawled to the opposite side of the barred door watching it with fear in her eyes.

"Open it," even in those two words the distinct British accent was audible.  
The demon followed his orders reluctantly but didn't dare to speak up.  
"Well, well," the King of hell entered the dark and moldy cell with a flawless smile any dentist would be proud to call his work.

„Here we are, the mighty Arcangel Michael. Are we getting comfy 'round here?" his arms made an expansive gesture as if Crowley had offered him a high end appartment.  
"Who are you? And what do you want?" Michael replied cold.  
"Oh, yes right, forgot you are not aware of the changes down here since you were engaged otherwise," his smile now seemed to reach his ears.  
"The name's Crowley, King of hell."

Michael eyed Crowley inquisitively.  
"Where's Lucifer?"  
"Oh, he's occupied licking his wounds I suppose, but I guess you know this better than me because you are the one who inflicted them. You did a hell of a job so to speak. My guys said he didn't even move when they took you," it had to be feared that his monologue would continue so Michael interrupted.  
"Why would you get me out of there?"

"Now that is a very interesting question, I was actually getting there before you rudely interrupted," he had the tone of a principal talking to a naughty school boy.  
"So where was I? Erm, right, the location shift. Well, new boss, new rules. I am not so much into that torturing stuff, you know. It's never been the same since 'Fifty Shades of Grey', all those Sado Masochists begging for more instead of crying for an end. So I decided this is not my style. I decided a more substle approach..."

"Well great job so far," Michael pointed at his cell mate.

"Oh, yes, right, good point," Crowley grinned again. "For some of our guests we have a special menu you see. This one, pardon my language, really pissed me off. I thought a special treatment would do her good."

"You son of a bitch," Sara's voice from the back of the cell sounded tormented but still full of hate.

"Hush there! Let the adults talk I will get to you when I'm done here," you could not tell from Crowley's voice if this was meant as threat or if it simply was an information. What ever the subtext was it surely worked. The girl in the back of the cell was quiet again.

"What do you want with me?" Michael asked again.  
"Oh, you will see soon," Crowley smiled at him again.

„C'mon girl, on your feet," Crowley addressed Sara.

She slowley got up and carefully made a few steps towards the King of hell.  
„What is it this time, Crowley?" her body might have been broken but her anger was still intact. „Oh, nothing. I'm sending you home," Crowley answered as if she had just asked for the time.  
„I'm sorry, what did you just say?"Sara didn't trust her ears.

"I said, go home!" Crowley repeated.

Sara looked at him stunned.  
"Off you go, what are you waiting for?" Crowley asked impatiently.  
"This is a joke, right? Like in Guantanamo when they tell the inmates they should pack their stuff and then nobody comes to pick them up. This is just psychological torture," said the girl but you could hear she wasn't convinced herself.  
"Yeah, Guantanamo, I have a few good guys there but the really capable ones I had in Abu Ghraib." Crowley was in a chatty mood.

"What are you waiting for? Me to change my mind?"

"Right," she mumbled in surprise. She quickly walked the few steps over to Michael and hugged him.

"Thank you," she whispered and he answered something inaudible for the others.

Then she walked out the door without looking back.

"Molly!" Crowley called for his secretary. A few seconds later a young blonde showed up in the door frame.  
"What can I do for you, Sir?" she asked politely.  
"Would you type up the release papers for Ms Jäger, Love?" Crowley handed her a few papers.

"Of course, Sir, my pleasure," she took the papers and soon her fingers created a tapping sound on her computer keyboard.

After the paperwork was done she handed the originals back in.

"Erm, Sir, I hope you don't mind me asking but..." she started.

"Go ahead, ask," Crowley was in a good mood.  
"You went through a lot of trouble to get her here why did you let her go?" Molly was curious.

"See, Love, this whole thing here has all the ingredients for a Shakespearean drama. I just had to put all the players in position."

Molly looked at him confused, "Sorry, Sir, I don't understand."

„Have you ever witnessed that delicate moment when hope dies? It is this flickering in their eyes. The moment the light in their eyes goes out but they are still alive. There is no better torture than this. They know they lost and there is nothing left living for," Crowley explained.

She still looked at him like she was waiting for an explanation.

"Where do you think she will go to? What do you think the angel asked of her?"

"To inform the other angels about his whereabouts?"

"Exactly. And what will happen?"

"She will find out that there are no angels anymore who can help?"

"Indeed," Crowley nodded.

"But wouldn't she go to the Winchesters?" Molly asked.

"That's what I'm counting on," the King of hell smiled.  
"I still don't understand, Sir," Molly said unhappily.  
"That's why you have the looks and I have the brains, Dear."

„Just pray, they will hear you," Michael had told her.  
She remembered how to pray and Sara was convinced she did it right but no angel seemed to listen.

Maybe this worked like a phone call and she had bad reception. So Sara went looking for a church. The building was made of sand stone it had seen better days as you could tell from the state the angel statues in the narve where in. The sun shone through dirty windows whose glass ornaments looked like they had been replaced with window colour. The wooden banks were old and looked uninviting. A deep sigh ascended from her chest when she reached the alter and kneeled in front of it.  
She started the way she was told in Sunday school:"Vater unser im Himmel..."  
Then she waited. The church remained quiet. One after the next she prayed all the prayers she ever learned from the good night prayer her mother told her to the creed. Sara spent hours making up her own prayers from demanding the angels to answer to beging for a sign.

Tears of anger filled her eyes when she reached her hotel room. Everything seemed so pointless. Maybe she was not pure enought for the angels. Centuries in hell could change a person and it surley changed her. All the happy memories about home, her family and friends they felt so surreal like pictures on a TV screen, like she never was part of this.  
Before hell she never knew this anger, this rage like she experienced it now. The anger in her belly was like a fire ready to burn the planet. She had walked for hours and was exhausted but the frustration and the anger did not wear off. All she could think of was to fulfill the job she was given by Michael and then head off to Germany. Her brother would have to pay for his sins. Nothing on earth could stop her from getting this revenge she swore herself.

The next morning Sara contacted her cousin in Germany.

"Hey, Philliph, it's me, Sara."

"Sara? I haven't heard from you in years! How are you? Are you still in Australia?" her cousin bombarded her with questions.

"Australia?" she echoed.

"Your brother said you moved and so quickly. It was a boy wasn't it?"

"Philliph, can we talk another time? This is important. I am in the States and I am working this job, you know."

"The States? Erm, yes, allright so strictly business. But you have to promise me we'll talk."

"We will, I promise," she sighed.

So her brother sold her out and told everyone she lived happily ever after in down under?! This bastard!

"What do you need?" Philliph interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm looking for brothers, their name is Winchester. I have no current address just a name."

"Nothing in my database. We don't have a lot on the Americans anyway," her cousin remarked.

"You are joking, Philliph, right?", she asked.

"No."  
"But aren't they hunters?" she asked her cousin surprised.  
"They must be but I don't have anything on them. The Americans don't have a system like us," he explained.  
"So how do they get the job done?"

"I heard they travel around never stay anywhere for long."

"But how do they raise their children? How do they make money?" she could not believe a thing she heared.

"Don't ask me, ask them. I'm not an expert on American Weirdonism but I found a contact person in the US maybe he can help. Do you have pen and paper ready?"

"I do, go ahead."

"His name is Garth, don't have anything more on him just his cell number. I hope it's still valid."

"Is this Sam Winchester?" the female voice on the other end of the line asked.

"Who's asking?" the man replied.

"Listen, you don't know me but I got this number from a friend of yours his name is Garth," said the female caller.

"Okay, Miss, so you have my number, what on earth do you want?" Sam was irritated and curious at the same time.

"My name is Sara and I have a message from your brother", she explained.

Sam looked across the room where Dean was playing darts. He frowned.

"Is this some kind of joke? My brother is right here ..."

"Your other brother", she interrupted him. "Adam."

"You spoke to Adam? Lady this is impossible..."

"Meet me at the Diner on Main Street, you know where. Garth told me they serve Dean's favorite pie. I will be there at 04.00 pm sharp if you don't show up I'm gone." She hung up.

She checked her watch again. 03.59 pm another minute and she'd be off. She had tried everything Michael and Adam could ask for, her job was done, almost. If she hurried she might be able to catch the next flight to Düsseldorf.  
In this very moment when she grabbed her bag two men entered. Judging from their looks they were not happy to be summoned here.

She sighed, so no early flight home.

She sat back down staring into her empty coffee pot. As she was the only guest the two men directly approached her.

"Are you Sara?"

"I am," she had to twist her neck to see his face. This guy was a bloody giant. No wonder Michael was convinced someone like him could bust him out of hell.

"I am Sam this is my brother Dean," he introduced himself and his company.

The smaller one nodded.  
"You said you spoke to our brother?" he started the interrogation.

He looked cute but the tension in his voice forbid her to follow this thought any further.

"Not directly to him,"she admitted.

Dean frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean? Did you or did you not speak to him?"

"I spoke to Michael," she explained.

The two of them looked at her inquisitively.

"To... to Michael?" Sam echoed he actually looked surprised while Dean just looked pissed.

"Is here an echo?" she said angrily.

"You are saying you met our brother and Michael? Where?" Dean's suspicion was audible in every single word.

"In hell," she answered.

"You were in hell?" obvioulsy Dean didn't believe a word she said.

"Right, that's it. I'm out," he stood up and turned away.

"So don't believe me, fine. Just go I don't mind I never wanted to do this anyway," she got up too and started shouting at the man who just turned his back on her.

"Dean," Sam's face supported the pleading tone of his voice.

Dean stared at his brother's face until he frowned and sat down again.

The waitress took this as a sign to come over.  
"The usual?" she asked the Winchesters.

"Just coffee, please", Sam tried to focus on the reason for their meeting.

"Coffee, coming right up."

"Man, you are no fun," Dean complained.

Sara looked out the window when the waitress returned.  
"You made yourself comfortable. I heard you guys don't do this," she remarked.

"Don't do what?" Dean asked.

"I heard American hunters just stroll around like rogue dogs, no homes, no families," she felt the anger again the beast in her belly wanted to start a fight. It wanted to punch people and shout out all the frustration.

"And you don't? Where were you from again?" she could hear Dean's teeth grind.

"Germany. And no, we don't."

"So you are saying you are a hunter but.." Sam didn't get the time to finish his sentence.

"I am not a hunter, I am a Jäger and yes we hunt. We grow up as hunters but we stay local. We have regular jobs and families. We are all over Germany and we have our networks. We keep in touch from Füssen to Bad Segeberg. How do you think I got your phone number? But this is not why we are here, right?" she grew impatient.

Sam looked over to Dean with surprise on his face.

"I didn't bring up that subject, in the first place," he whispered.

"So you claim you met our brother in hell?" Dean ignored her aggressive tone.  
"And I have enough scars to back up that story," she snorted angrily.

"So how did you get out?"

"This is crazy but they let me walk."

"You are right, this is crazy, why would they do that?" Dean shook his head.

"Don't ask me why I have no idea and I don't care. All I know is I got out and I promised to tell you or the angels that Michael and Adam are still alive and they are waiting."

"Waiting? For us to bust them out? You've got to be friggin' kiddin' me!" Dean exclaimed.

"Hey, this wasn't my idea. I am just delivering the news! And I tried to contact Michael's buddies but nobody would answer," she moaned.

"Yeah, that's because the entire God Squad crashed and burned," Dean grumbled.

"Come again?"

"They fell, all of them", Sam explained.

"So there is no one there?"

"We are on our own," Sam nodded.

"This is just perfect," she sighed.

"So what do you expect us to do? Just march right into hell, fight only god knows how many demons, find Adam and walk right out of there again?" Dean's face had turned into a mask of pain.

"Then there is no way for him to get out?" she asked weakly.

Sam looked pleadingly at his brother's face. His big brown eyes reminded her of a lost puppy.  
"No Sammy, we can't," Dean shook his head.

"But he is our brother, Dean," the giant on the other side of the table was practically begging his brother.

"I know", Dean's answer wasn't much more than a whisper when Sara noticed something in his eyes. It was just a fraction of a second but when he looked up again she could see it. The spark of hope was gone, his eyes were empty. The young man on the opposite side of the table had aged within seconds.

Sara felt like someone had dashed her with ice water. This entire situation was hopeless and she was the one who brought it on them, the bearer of bad news, she was Cassandra.

Sara felt sick, she had to get out of here, quickly.  
She waved the waitress and paid for the coffee.

She excused herself, told them she needed to catch her flight home.

"What are you going to do when you're home?" Sam asked.

"Family business," she shrugged.

"Right, take care," he said when she got into her taxi.

She started weeping quietly. She couldn't get this picture out of her head, those sad empty eyes.

Sara turned sideways and started watching the landscape. She could not let herself get distracted like that. The time for her revenge was so close.

"Hand me that please," Crowley pointed at a newspaper.

"Lippische Landeszeitung? Since when...?" Molly handed over the German newspaper.

"Since this is good news," he explained by not explaining.

"**Three die at shooting range**" was the head line of the small local newspaper.  
"Well, well we better prepare for our guests, Molly," he shouted.

"Will do, Sir," her high heels caused immense noise on the floor when she walked out of the office.

The entire front page was covered in pictures and reports about a local woman returning home from the States to shoot her own brother and his wife before she was shot by the local police. Everyone called it a tragedy nobody knew what had gotten into that woman.

Crowley folded that paper and started humming, everything was falling into place.

It didn't take a lot of work to get Sara back to her cell. She didn't struggle, she didn't shout, she walked right into that cell.  
"What did they do to you?" Michael asked worried.

"Nothing," she said cold.

"They really let me go."

"But why are you here again? What happened? Did you talk to my brothers?" He started fireing questions at here like an excited kid.

She sat down at the moldy wall on the opposite side of him. She looked him straight into the eyes when she started talking.

"I went home, that's what I did. Before that I met the Winchesters just as you asked."

"What did they say? What about the angels? When will they be here? Is this part of their plan?"

She laughed cold and bleak.

"The angels, they never answered. None of your brothers heard my prayers. You know why? Because they are dead, Michael. They fell to earth and burned. Your brothers are gone." Her voice was sharp like a knife and like a knife her words ripped deep wounds into his heart.

"Why would you say such a thing? Did Crowley..?" he tried to fight the tears but didn't succeed entirely. A tear dripped down from his eye, left a sparkeling trail on his cheeck until it reached his chin and fell to the ground.

"He didn't make me do anything. I chose to do what I did. I kept my promise I did what you asked of me. That does not mean anything will change for you."

Her eyes burned from hate.

"What happened out there? What did you do?" the angel whispered.

"I did what I wanted to do since the first day here. I went home and got revenge. I killed them, both of them and it felt good," an evil smile appeared on her face.

Michael gasped.  
"Face it, angel, this is our home now. Nobody is coming to rescue anyone from here. Your brothers are dead and his..." she pointed at Adam "...are alone. Two men won't stand a chance against an Army of demons. So get comfortable."

She enjoyed the way Michael's face changed during her speech. First he looked scared, maybe he even pitied her but then he started crying silently.

And then it went dark. The light in Adam's eyes disappeard what it left behind was a blank stare. The 100 yard stare of a hopeless man with a broken core.

No beacon of hope was left for him with an eternity of pain waiting for him.

-The End-


End file.
